


A Wayward Child and Watchful Eyes

by SubtextEquals



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-02-16 06:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2259738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir and Agron keep watch of Sibyl's son and talk of one of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Wayward Child and Watchful Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt: Um…how about domestic Nagron?
> 
> I fear I'm going to have write a proper fic for this later.

Nasir leaned against the fence, watching as Sibyl’s son kept weaving between goats, trying to herd them like a dog. He smiled at the sight. This was what his skills at watch had been reduced to. From seeking out Roman soldiers and any who might advance on them to playing shepherd to a child. He couldn’t say he minded it.

“He runs like goats may turn and bare teeth,” Agron commented. He came up behind Nasir and rested his hand on Nasir’s shoulder. His fingers couldn’t quite curl around him.

“If he presses against them yet one more time, they may.” He raised his voice “Ansgar! Go find your sister.”

Ansgar caught sight of them, brushed back locks of hair the color of his mother’s, and ran off in the other direction. He crashed into the fence as he attempted to jump over it.

Nasir winced and shook his head. “His eyes have seen me do that a time too many.”

The boy brushed himself off and climbed over the fence instead.

“You watch over that boy so often you may claim him as yours.” Agron brushed his hand over the back of Nasir’s neck.

Nasir laughed. “I would not steal him from Sibyl.”

“We should steal one from another then.” Agron rested his chin on Nasir’s head.

“If we find one to steal I shall bring the babe back to you and force you to nurse it.”

Agron pulled away and gave Nasir a light shove. “He shall suckle at your breast, wife.”

“I am no wife. I fear he will starve.” Nasir wrapped his arms around Agron’s waist. He stared up at Agron, years older, calmer, less hungry for blood, but still the man he had met in Spartacus’s army.

Agron pushed back a lock of Nasir’s hair.

“You’re all my heart desires,” Nasir said, cutting to the heart of the issue. “Nothing else.”

But when a mother abandoned her child in the village later that week, that didn’t stop them from stepping in.


End file.
